20 #2
“No, seriously. I wanted you. Really fucking bad. But I knew it was a mistake.”
“Right.” A hollow ache spreads through my chest as I get up from the bed.
“And I never slept with Jessa,” he adds.
“I saw you two together!” I reply and reach the door, but Mitch steps in my way, blocking it.
“What do you mean you saw us?”
I refuse to meet his eyes and stare at his bare chest. “A few days after… I came over to talk, to apologize. The door was unlocked. And there you were, on your couch.”
“Oh, wow.” He drops his head back against the door and sighs. “We messed around, but nothing happened.”
“If you say so.” I shake my head. “Get out of my way.”
“Maxine, I swear. We made out. She started jerking me off, but—”
“Spare me the details, please,” I interrupt, cringing.
His forehead wrinkles slightly. “Nothing happened. Believe me.”
I release a shaky breath. “Fine, I believe you. Now, please move.”
“No.” He squares his shoulders.
“Mitchell…” I cock my head.
“Max… I want to talk about this,” he insists.
The face looking back at me; the eyes searching mine, belong to my friend. The kid who used to watch rom-coms with me and who’d always give me his green M&M’s. The kid who once drove out to my summer camp to wish me a happy birthday because he knew I was sad not to be with my family.
The guy who cared so much for me, he didn’t want to jeopardize our friendship by having sex.
I realize that what we had is bruised and broken, but it’s still there, waiting for us to pick it back up.
“We’ve talked. We’re good,” I reply.
“We so fucking aren’t. We need to deal with this.”
“Right this instant with our friends up there?” I ask pointing above.
“They’re busy. They don’t care about us.”
“What exactly do we need to deal with?”
I catch the quick detour his eyes make to my waist before coming back up to my face.
“The enormous elephant in the room that keeps following us around.”
Mitch
I can tell she notices when my eyes drift over her breasts down to her waist. That lime-green bikini has held my eyes captive all day.
She brings her arms up, crossing them against her chest. “Mitch, the only enormous thing in this room is your ego,” she says without malice.
“To be fair, you’re the one who got jealous of another girl,” I shoot back with a smirk.
“I wasn’t jealous.”
“Well, whatever you were, you didn’t even bother to talk to me about it.”
Her jaw clenches as her eyes glint with fury. “Who’s the one who dodged my calls? My emails? Even after all of it… I tried.”
She’s got me there.
“So, to be clear, which one are you maddest about? That I moved away, or that you believe I slept with someone else?”
“A little of both. But mostly how you ran as quickly as those pretty legs of yours would let you. As if none of us mattered.”
The champagne has definitely loosened her tongue.
“I had to follow my dreams. I was always going to leave, you knew that.” Funnily enough, my left eyebrow twitches. I guess she was right—it does that when I’m lying.
“You’re right. I did. But I guess I just thought…” She drops her head, but it doesn’t hide the tears filling her eyes.
I wanted this to go smoother, to ease into this conversation. I never wanted her to cry. But now that the wound is open, I see this might be our last chance to mend it.
I gently lift her chin, tilting her head so her eyes meet mine. “Tell me, Max. Tell me what you thought.”
Her lower lip quivers. “I thought that I mattered more to you.”
I frown and blink a few times, staring at her in disbelief. “Of course you mattered.”
She hastily wipes a tear away. I ignore the way my body responds to her pain, the subtle hint of desire that stirs in my blood, that begs to take her into my arms, into the bed and make her feel better. Make myself feel better.
The room seems to fill with our long-held hurt before I break the silence. “Max, you mattered more to me than anyone else.”
She shakes her head, running both hands down her face, then looks at me, her eyes wet and filled with accusation. “Then why was I the only one you cut out of your life?”
This pierces my heart, and I dip my head in shame. “I’m sorry for that. I figured it was better that way.”
With a sniffle, she nods. “Guess it was.”
She reaches around me and tugs on the door, but it doesn’t open.
“What the hell?” She turns the lock. Still, the door won’t budge.
After a few more tries, I offer to help. “Here. Let me.”
“No, I got it,” she insists.
“Can you please let me try?”
She huffs, moving aside, and I fiddle with the lock, but the door is obviously jammed. I drop my forehead against it, a sneaking suspicion filling my mind.
Fucking Spencer.
A chuckle comes out, one that rises from deep inside.
“This isn’t funny,” she says.
“It’s a little funny.” I skate my gaze over her bikini-clad body. “Any chance you’ve got your phone tucked away in there somewhere?”
“What do you think?” she answers, giving her chest and ass a quick tap-down. “How about you?”
I hesitate, then shake my head, rubbing my left eyebrow when it twitches. “Nope.”
With a low grunt, she shoves me aside and thumps on the door, screaming for help.
The boat slices through the water. The motor is loud but soothing, and the music is on above-deck. “No one will hear you. Don’t worry. Someone will come by eventually.”
Taunted by Maxine’s smooth shoulder, her lightly bronzed, freckled skin like a beacon, I caress it with my fingers.
She shuts her eyes. “Don’t,” she whispers, then slips out of my reach, but continues to bang on the door.
“We had something real back then, didn’t we?”
Her shoulders fall, and her long exhale is so miserable it shreds my heart, but she keeps her eyes ahead. “I thought we did.”
A sudden lightness floods my chest. “I know we have a lot of baggage, but—”
“Baggage?” she interrupts. “We don’t have baggage, Mitch. We have fucking cargo. Massive loads of cargo.” She grabs the knob, jiggling and tugging, then she smashes the door with her shoulder as if her tiny frame could break through the solid mahogany.
“Stop it, Max. You’ll hurt yourself.”
“I need to get out of here.” Panic consumes her, along with an unrecognizable worry in her eyes.
I move up behind her. “Max, quit it.”
Only she doesn’t. She relentlessly punches the door, breathing hard. I slam my hands against the door, framing her between my arms, then lower my lips to her temple.
“Stop,” I order, an unrecognizable heat in my voice.
Her back presses against my chest with each of her deep breaths.
“Back off, Mitch,” she hisses, but I don’t move.
Instead, I slip my nose into her hair and take a deep inhale. “I’m not going anywhere. And neither are you.”